


burn notice

by broments



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Pre-Threesome, Sharing a Bed, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:14:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21995827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broments/pseuds/broments
Summary: A series of INCOMPLETE and UNFINISHED odds and ends of fic that can't live forever in my gdocs. Please note the rating and warnings; each 'chapter' is generally T with exceptions noted.1. (T.  Gueira/Meis/Lio.) “The bed fits three, easy, boss,” Meis offers, even if he knows that this is anything but easy.2. (T. Galo/Lio implied, Freeze Force Galo AU.) Climbing into the mech Lucia built him always feels better than putting on his Foresight or Freeze Force uniforms.3. (T, Galo/Lio, Lio's a superhero and the Promare are actually Venom.) The first time they meet, Helios very nearly kills Galo.4. (T, Galo/Lio, ch.2 continuation) Galo can hear the click of Lio's heels on the floor as he comes closer. “You look— taller.”
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos, Lio Fotia/Gueira/Meis
Comments: 17
Kudos: 137





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 90% of these are because I had convos with folks in the fandom and was possessed to write like, a few hundred or thousand words and then just never touched it again. Whoops. Unbeta'd and often, very, very often, 6 scenes I stitched together because I refuse to make this 95 chapters. There's no transitions between scenes. A lot of these were just written after discussing ideas with friends, or a friend would send me a line and I'd vomit up 500 words. More often than not this is all sovereignty's fault!!!
> 
> I tried to catch all the spots where HTML gets fucky (going from gdocs > ao3 gets those fun word in [ italics , " ] bullshit but I know I missed a few, sorry!

Lio Fotia’s real name isn’t Lio Fotia, Meis'd put money on it.

Lio might give introductions smoothly, certainly, but Meis has gotten this far by trusting his gut, and his gut says that it isn’t the truth. Normally, that would be enough for Meis to call it, but for some reason, this time he doesn’t. Lio's saved their lives; that's earned a measure of trust, however small.

Haloed by the dying light of the sun, Lio Fotia, or whoever he is, looks otherworldly. When he talks, everyone listens, moths drawn to the power of his flame. It’s how all of them have found each other, their flames calling to each other, drawing them together. It means it’s easy to find other Burnish, and also means that the more they group together the more danger they’re in, even out in the middle of the Wastes. Lio can protect them, though. Better than Meis can, better than Meis and Gueira can.

All of the other Burnish feel like matches on the edges of his periphery. Gueira burns like a miniature sun at his side, some of the other Mad Burnish like the balls of flame that they can summon to their hands. The settlement is its own blaze, dozens of matches gathered together to form a roiling bonfire, always at his back. He can feel the others, in other cities, sometimes out in the Wastes; if they wanted, they could have always gone toward the brightest ones, but one of them kept coming closer and closer. Now, looking at Lio, Meis knows he is who they felt. 

Every other fire that surrounds them, Meis is aware of it, but Lio Fotia somehow outshines all of them. “ _The Burnish aren’t killers_ ,” he tells them, and Meis wants to point out that yeah, they kind of are, there’s a whole fucking title for the sheer amount of killing the Burnish did, even if it wasn’t intentional. Great World Blaze, but there’s nothing great about it.

It’s not the first time someone has showed up in front of them and tried to take over in one way or another. Half of Mad Burnish was made up of people who did that very thing, testing their flames against the combined might of Meis and Gueira, losing every time. No one else has ever come close, until Lio. “ _The Burnish will establish a city for the Burnish. We’ll make our living far away from humanity.”_

Burnish are used to hearing empty promises. When Lio says it to them, blazing fiercer than the sun, Meis realizes this is the first time he believes it.

Lio Fotia wants to build a city for the Burnish, and he has the power to do it. 

* * *

One night, Lio Fotia comes to their bed and doesn't leave.

A month later between Promepolis and Bainbridge, riding high on the win of having saved fifteen people, they rest for the night. It’s less resting and more a rowdy party in one of the ghost towns littering the highway, but that’s fine. Not only does Lio Fotia lead them to successfully save fifteen people in another city, they make it out without any injuries, casualties, and to top it off, the town they stop in has three restaurants _and_ a hotel. 

Meis is used to sleeping on the ground; usually, they don’t go into towns, not wanting to risk it. In cities, it’s just a matter of getting past the wall and not letting on you’re Burnish which is easy enough if you can control your flames. 

After the Great World Blaze, though, most people moved to cities. The ones that stay in the rundown, old towns are more dangerous than the cities, sometimes, because they know everyone else, which means if they roll up there the suspicion is instant. 

It’s not a risk they’d normally take, but Lio leads them into the town and they pull into a parking lot. It’s a good spot - plenty of cover, and when they park the van, it blends in with the rest of the rusted, old hunks of metal that nature is slowly reclaiming. There aren’t any other Burnish here besides them, and the roads into this area had flowers along them until they showed up, which means no one else has been using the roads to get here. It makes sense; Bainbridge to Promepolis is only a few hours on a highway without any police, there’s no need to stop and most people traveling know better than to. 

They’re not most people, though, even with a group of civilians. 

Another stroke of luck comes when he and Lio head deeper into the parking lot slowly being reclaimed by nature and Lio uses his flames to form a wedge to shove the sliding doors open. Meis half expects there to be a smell. A lot of the time, when they broke in somewhere, food had spoiled and the whole place stank. In particularly bad towns, sometimes they find bodies. There's none of that in the department store, but there are clothes. Toys for the kids. Canned food that hasn't expired and won't for at least another year or two. Too much to carry on their own, but with this many sets of arms able to _and_ the van they've stolen, it's enough. Gueira fills a cart to the brim with diapers, toilet paper, and wheels from aisle to aisle whistling, planting his feet onto the cart to push himself down from one end to the next, tossing things in. 

Halfway through the store pillaging, they get a call that the hotel is safe, which means _beds_. Proper beds, with pillows and blankets and maybe a hotel minibar. Running water is too much to hope for, but the penthouse has a massive bathtub and all the other rooms on that floor do too, which means for one night they're living practically in the lap of luxury. One hotel room holds everything they've taken from the store, while those they've rescued are placed in the rooms, with idle patrols throughout the night. 

Gueira spends a solid hour in the bath after they bring the first batch of water up, opting to skip out on the meal (because he knows Meis will save him some). Halfway through the soak, when Meis dutifully brings up some canned grapefruit and a fork, Gueira hooks a wet arm around his waist and puts his chin on top of Meis' knee, dripping fingers stroking the small of his back. "The boss say if he's taking the penthouse yet?" 

Meis plucks a slice of grapefruit from the can and thumbs over Gueira's lower lip when the slice is taken from between his fingers. "Haven't suggested it yet. You know how he is. I'll ask." 

"Lemme know if you need backup," Gueira offers, like it's a mission and not trying to convince their leader to take a fucking nap. Meis' fingers trail along the line of pale skin, the burnish equivalent of a farmer's tan from Gueira's shirt, and watches the skin goosebump behind the trail of his fingertips. "Unless you're getting in, cut that out." 

For a moment, the temptation is there. Meis considers it, and Gueira groans, shoving at his thigh to push him off. "Wait for me to go check it out, but go make sure he's not trying to sleep on the roof." 

They'd caught him doing it once, fitted between the rooftop exit and the wall, watching the horizon tiredly; it was an accident, but now they knew to watch out for it. "Hurry up," Meis strokes a hand through Gueira's hair on the way up and by, ambling back toward the door, weighing how exactly he wants to fight this battle. "We'll see what happens." 

* * *

It's easier than he expects. Mad Burnish insist that the boss takes the penthouse of the hotel, and Lio points out there’s plenty of room for the three of them, even if Gueira isn't there to agree, Meis is and does, so the three of them make their way to the massive, ornate doors of the penthouse, and Gueira kicks it in with a whoop.

Nothing’s been plugged in for years, there’s dust all over everything, and there’s no plumbing, but when Gueira makes a beeline for the bedroom and yanks off the dusty duvet cover, the bed underneath is effectively pristine. 

“Holy shit,” Meis says with feeling, looking at the bed. It’s massive. He could stretch out on the entire thing and his arms and legs wouldn’t touch the edges. Adjoining the bedroom is another door, so Meis opens that up and stares at the obscenely large bathroom, larger than the one Gueira'd commandeered earlier. The no running water thing still sucks, but he could sleep in that bathtub, easily. He’s not going to because there’s a _massive bed_ in there but he could and it’s wild. 

When he comes back out of the bathroom, there’s a lump underneath the covers already, red curls poking out from under it. Meis toes his boots off, amused. Lio didn’t follow them in, but Meis will go looking for him in a moment. “That was fast.” 

“There is nothing that’s gonna be any better than this bed behind any of those doors,” Gueira says from underneath the lump, tugging back a part of the sheets in invitation. The lilt to his voice makes it clear the next words are an invitation in every way it can be meant. “You coming?” 

It's an out, but Meis won't take it.

“Going to check on the boss, first,” Meis answers, coming to the edge of the bed. He still has to stretch to reach Gueira in the middle, lifting the covers to see nothing but a line of bare skin and black briefs. Shameless, Gueira rolls onto his back and tents a knee so Meis gets the full picture and when he looks up, Gueira’s smirking at him. Normally, Meis wouldn’t bother; he’d crawl between the sheets and let Gueira distract him from everything else until the next watch came up or they had to travel somewhere. The question he wants to ask lingers on his tongue, but he’s not sure how best to broach it. The out was offered to him, though and it's only fair he offers it too, just in case.

It’s different with Lio. Everything’s different with Lio, but they've got a good thing going here and Meis would get it if Gueira wanted to keep it that way. 

“S’a really big bed,” Gueira says, tugging the covers back around himself. Meis hums in agreement, and Gueira continues, “Big enough for three people. Easy.” 

Oh, _oh._

“Hm,” Meis answers, pulling away from the bed, relieved. “Guess we’ll see if the boss agrees.” 

“Hope so,” Gueira yawns, settling back under into his blanket nest as Meis turns to leave the bedroom, patting his pockets for his smokes.

Lio’s out on the balcony, sitting on the railing like some kind of gargoyle, the wind tugging at the longest bits of his hair. They’re a good few hundred feet in the air but it isn’t like they need to worry about falling. Still, Meis is careful not to startle him as he opens the glass window and leans over the railing, elbows balanced on it next to Lio once he’s tugged a cigarette out. Lio doesn’t like the habit, but doesn’t ever tell him not to do it. It isn’t like it matters, anyway; any damage he does to his lungs the flames repair. He could smoke all of the cigarettes at once and it wouldn’t _do_ anything. 

“You should go to sleep,” Lio tells him, looking out over the mess in front of him. The charred husk of a car sits in an empty parking lot, half covered in vines. In the hotel’s parking lot, someone’s very expensive car is melted on the driver’s side, and a tree has started sprouting through the center of it. “We won’t have a bed every night.” 

Meis knows that. They all know that, but _tonight_ they do. He takes a drag off the cigarette and tries to blow a ring, but the smoke isn’t the right type and the wind steals it before he gets very far so the rest is let out in a slow trail from the corner of his mouth. “Are you sleeping tonight?” 

“Eventually.” Some nights, Lio doesn’t sleep. Countless times Meis has woken up to go take a piss and found Lio lingering on scaffolding, legs hanging over the edge, watching their surroundings. They don’t have to do that here. They’re hidden, they’re safe. Lio cuts him a look when he doesn’t move. “You don’t have to stay out here with me.” 

“I know,” Meis takes another drag, slower this time, and rolls the smoke in his mouth a moment before breathing it out, lips tugging into a smile. “Can’t smoke in there. Might set a fire.” 

He can, technically, but it’s more trouble than it’s worth. What is worth it, is the way Lio’s breath escapes him in a quiet laugh, the wind stealing the sound straight from his lips. 

“We wouldn’t want that,” Lio murmurs, the leather of his gloves creaking around where he holds the railing. “Gueira?” 

Meis weighs potential answers. _Asleep_ is too nonchalant. “He’s in bed already.” 

“Ah.” Lio doesn’t move, doesn’t look at him. Meis...isn’t really sure if Lio gets it. 

His cigarette burns nearly to the filter and Meis crushes the cherry before flicking the butt over the edge. By his side, Lio lifts his hands and draws his bow smoothly, loosing an arrow. The butt dissolves into nothing but ashes, melting into the wind. Lio moves like it’s nothing, calling a weapon to his hands so easily, striking the cigarette butt without any effort at all. 

Lio could take him out in an instant if he wanted. Maybe that’s part of the appeal, part of what makes him brave and a little stupid. 

“The bed fits three, easy, boss,” Meis echoes Gueira's words from earlier, even if he knows that this is anything _but_ easy. 

It’s not often that he’s aware he’s surprised Lio, but this time, he has. Lio turns the whole of his attention onto Meis, and for a moment, backlit by the moon, he’s so beautiful that Meis’ breath catches in his lungs. When Lio Fotia didn’t want to do something, he wouldn’t do it. Nothing could make him, not even Meis and Gueira, so he’s not worried about Lio not being able to say no. "It would. It's that easy?"

Nothing in a Burnish’s life is easy, but that’s just how it is. Meis takes a few guiding steps back into the hotel room where Gueira’s curled in the center, an arm outstretched toward the side Meis sleeps on. Lio sees it, his eyes flicking from the outstretched hand to Meis himself, performing whatever calculations in his head he needs to. 

“There’s a saying about how three’s company.” 

It’s not a no. Meis hums, and lets them both into the room, quiet in case Gueira’s actually asleep. “Don’t think they had a king-sized bed or they’d have a different saying.” 

“ _Guuuuys_ ,” Gueira groans, impressively pathetic from where he’s bundled under the covers. His hand thwacks the bed once, twice. “Come _on_.” 

Meis circles around to his side and kicks his boots off one after the other, hooking his finger into his belt. Gueria's all but naked under the sheets, but he can always keep his pants and shirt on and sleep in the middle if that's not okay. Glancing over, Lio gives him a lopsided little smirk and undoes his pants, shucking them in a shower of sparks that gets a low whistle from the bed. Okay then. Meis huffs a laugh under his breath and finishes stripping down, settling onto the side of the bed he normally claims while Lio watches them for a long, lingering moment. 

"Your choice, boss," Meis tells him, quiet, echoed by Gueira's low hum and then the bed creaks with the addition of a third body onto it and the two of them make room without any hesitation. Big enough for three, easy.


	2. 2, T. Freeze Force Galo, G/L implied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Climbing into the mech Lucia built him always feels better than putting on his Foresight or Freeze Force uniforms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically, this was another part of Kindling. I had written a ton of former Kray/Galo where Galo was a FF member and wound up not using it so it got spread along a few different AUs but here are the bits and pieces that didn't make it in! I wanted to play around with FF Galo and what that'd mean with how Kray would treat him on things, and what that would also mean for BR/the Burnish.
> 
> I also used lines from the translation/first version cuz this is OOOOOLD and I cannot believe "balls to the wall" and "I didn't get naked for fun" were real fucking lines.

“The terrorists’ target is Foresight Pharmaceuticals, though we don’t know when,” the Gov says, gracefully sliding a hand across the tablet, flicking the building specs to Galo’s phone. “As you know, the work they do is invaluable to the Foresight Foundation. We cannot allow these...criminals to succeed, whatever their goals are. I trust you’ll do everything in your power to stop them.” 

Houses, apartments, malls, restaurants, and now  _ this _ ? A number of them can be chalked up to someone becoming Burnish, and the Mad Burnish coming to get them before Freeze Force, but some were like this. Senseless, stupid attacks to scare people, or stop the Gov’s work to help people.  _ That _ , he can’t accept; the Burnish weren’t  _ all _ bad, but these sure aren’t helping anyone’s case least of all their own. 

All the more reason to stop them. The Gov’s intel is never wrong. 

“Right! You can count on me, Gov.” Galo’s hand snaps up in a crisp salute, the material of his outfit straining, tight and itchy and uncomfortable. He doesn’t let himself adjust it, holding the position until Kray releases him from it with a dismissive wave, letting him stand at parade rest once more. 

Behind the desk, Kray folds his hands neatly, resting his chin on top of his laced fingers. The dimming sun lights him up in shades of orange and rust; the shadow he casts looks as if it has wings from the high back of his chair. “Oh, I know I can. I’ll expect you back with a full report when you’ve finished.” 

* * *

Climbing into the mech Lucia built him always feels better than putting on his Foresight uniform.

He’d never say it, of course, but Burning Rescue always lets him wear whatever he wants (mostly Galo thinks it’s because they’ve given up trying to make him wear a shirt when they keep burning off) and the armor Kray’s given him doesn’t  _ need _ him to wear a shirt. The techs would rather he wear one and don’t seem like they believe him when he insists he uses it better  _ without _ , but they don’t argue with him about it, so he doesn’t bother. 

The exception is the sleeve, which he wears at all times. Kray had it specially designed for him after the burn that nearly took his arm and while it’s not exactly necessary anymore, Galo keeps wearing it. Partially because it was a gift and Kray’s techs need whatever data he can give them on it, and partially because the news gets shitty when someone from Burning Rescue shows up with scars. 

It helps that Lucia’d been over the moon to study the sleeve; despite all of Galo’s asking, Foresight Tech doesn’t share any of what they’re working on with Burning Rescue despite how much it could help them, despite how many lives it could save. He gets it, of course: budgetary constraints are a thing, and it’s not like he handles the numbers. But  _ still. _

So, instead, he does what he can. He brings the armor by a few times to let Lucia take it apart and put it back together again all mad scientist-y, lets her study the nano-thermo whatever sleeve, and doesn’t tell the governor or techs back at the Foresight Foundation, because sometimes it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission. 

Galo  _ also _ gets a sweet new mech out of it, which means the moment the call comes through and he hears  _ Foresight Pharmaceuticals,  _ he’s first in the truck. 

“Calm down, rookie,” Varys says on the way past, knocking his knuckles against Galo’s head affectionately. “Probably just a new Burnish. Your ass probably won’t even leave the seat this go.” 

“ _ Hey!  _ You guys gotta let me do more one of these days.” Galo protests, instead of pointing out that he  _ knows _ it’s Mad Burnish because the Gov asked him not to say anything to Burning Rescue because it was  _ top secret _ . Just to spite Varys, he stands up to prove his ass is gonna leave the seat and  _ that’s _ when the truck screeches around the corner out of Burning Rescue, throwing him onto the ground with a thunk and yelp. 

“You totally deserved that,” Lucia calls from her seat, safely buckled in, plucking at it mockingly, while Galo pushes himself up, betrayed.

“You guys know I handle bigger blazes than this with Freeze Force,” Galo protests, buckling his seatbelt under Vary’s watchful eye, crossing his arms across his chest. Changing tack, Galo leans against the seatbelt and, wheedling, “Luuucia, how am I gonna test out your cool new gear if I never get to  _ do _ stuff unless it’s an emergency!” 

The thing is, Lucia’s like, scary fucking smart, and sees right through him despite his best totally innocent face, turning back to her buttons and screens. “Nice try. Captain’s orders only.” 

“ _ I’m _ a  _ Captain _ !” Galo sags against the seatbelt, pathetically. 

“Freeze Force doesn’t  _ count _ ,” Aina calls from the front seat. 

Which, she’s right. It was the condition for him joining Burning Rescue, with both Kray and Ignis against it; after all Galo’s insisting that he could handle both Burning Rescue and the Freeze Force, they compromised. Galo got to be a probationary Freeze Force member, but he didn’t retain the rank gained in the Freeze Force. It’s as fair as they could make it, and Galo doesn’t think of it as being  _ demoted _ necessarily but staying in the truck til they  _ need  _ him kind of sucks.

They’re  _ gonna _ need him anyway, the moment that they find out the Mad Burnish are there, it’s going to be all hands on deck and it’d be better, faster if he was already  _ out there _ but he can’t say anything! 

Next to him, Lucia eyes his bouncing knee and tense, crossed arms, and then pulls her coffee closer like she’s afraid Galo’s going to drink it. (It’s only happened  _ twice okay _ the cups all look the same.) “What is your deal, you dummy?” 

His knee doesn’t stop, but he forcibly undoes his arms and clenches the metal of the truck’s seat, instead. As convincingly as he can manage, “Nothing!” 

“Uh-huh,” Lucia takes a long, slow sip of her coffee, but then the call for Varys and Remi goes out, and he knocks his fists against theirs as they settle in and are deployed. “Sure seems like something.”

“You know me! My firefighter’s soul burns brightest when there’s something to do! This is the only chance I get to  _ rescue,  _ too! Not that —”  Galo’s arms go back to crossed, fingers tapping against his sleeve anxiously. “I don’t mean! I’m not complaining about the Freeze Force or the Gov, you know, I’m just saying…” 

“Maybe you ought to ask why they’re not letting you do any rescuing over there,” Lucia says mildly, and Galo blinks at her, utterly distracted from his anxiety by his confusion over what she means. 

_ We’re not dispatched to civilian-facing situations  _ is the official line. Galo’s lost count of how many times that sentence been parroted to him; it’s the line he’s told every time he gets in trouble for rescuing when he’s supposed to be  _ apprehending _ . 

The call over comms breaks him out of it, his body moving before his mind catches up to it and then there’s no time to think at all. He gives Lucia a quick grin and fistbump, snagging the Matoi on the way out. As the panel rises, Galo whistles, shading his eyes against the blaze of the Burnish flames. “Whoooa! It’s burning hard! Well worth extinguishing!” 

The mech settles over him like a second set of skin. It’s always felt better than the uniforms, even though it’s a few thousand pounds and the uniform is some absurdly expensive material that would make Galo’s wallet weep if  _ he _ paid it. The fact that  _ expensive _ didn’t mean comfortable was ridiculous. 

Even with the crash landing, the suit feels sturdy under him, around him. It takes a beating and keeps on going; it might not be as quick to react as the Freeze Force gear, but it doesn’t need to. It’s built for  _ rescuing _ . Spinning the Matoi with the mech’s arms is noisy, all the gears turning and springs coiling and uncoiling. It’s not the sterile control of the armor, it’s got  _ character _ . “Come on, this way!” 

The moment everyone’s safe onboard, Galo turns to the thickest part of the smoke, already knowing what he’s going to find. Mad Burnish, sure, but he doesn’t expect the three of them to be the  _ leaders _ , right there. The relief that swamps him is like a wave; if he can do this-- No, he  _ can do this, _ he can take them all out and capture them and then all of this will be one closer step to being  _ over.  _

The rescue gear isn’t the armor that molds to his body and makes him faster, stronger. It’s slower in situations like this, where the Burnish move so  _ fast _ , like the flames are another piece of themselves. Galo ducks out of the mech and fires repeatedly, just to buy himself some time, heart pounding. This is so much better than anything else - he’s rescued people, and now he can  _ actually _ do some good,  _ and _ it’s a challenge. 

One down, then two, and the big boss deigns to give Galo a moment of his time. The Gov does the same thing sometimes. Sits there waiting patiently for Galo to say something, looking for all the world like he could wait forever even in his impatience. Galo waves the Matoi, trying to convince him to come down and then he  _ does _ and Galo’s breath catches a little. 

Sure, fighting the Burnish is impressive and the blazes they set gives him something to test himself against, but this is a whole other level. The generals clearly know their stuff, but this one? He glides down the path his flames build and Galo watches, hungry and in awe, before throwing himself into the battle whole-heartedly. 

He wins because there’s no other option; he can’t disappoint the Gov, or Ignis, or the rest of Burning Rescue and when he knows he has his team around him everything is so much easier. His hip cocks as he looks down at Lio, two hundred pounds of spite in a hundred-pound container. “I didn’t get naked for fun, you know.” 

The leader, looking like he’s bored out of his mind, examines his nails idly and then glances up at Galo. “It didn’t cross my mind. You’re nothing like what I expected.” 

He’s not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult so instead, he breezes right past it and focuses on the important part. “Wait, what you  _ expected _ ?” Okay, wait, that’s not important, the dude is distracting him from his introduction here. Galo puffs up just a little bit, arms crossed. “My name is Galo Thymos, a firefighter with a burning soul. Balls to the wall are the words I live by, make a note of it!"

Lio doesn’t look suitably impressed for what’s a _really_ good introduction, which is a bummer, but he tilts his chin up and answers. “I know who you are. One of Kray Foresight’s  _ captains _ .” Somehow, he manages to fit enough disgust in that word to make it sound like  _ dogs _ . “Lio. Lio Fotia.” 

* * *

“Taking credit for our work,” Galo mutters just loud enough to hear, despite Aina elbowing him and desperately telling him to shut up. He shifts a foot in front of her, putting himself between her and Vulcan, and then pushes forward. 

“What did you say?” Vulcan stops and his armor hisses as he whirls and bends down, trying to intimidate him. Their heads smack together; Galo doesn’t blink. “Was it you who caught him?” 

“What if it was.” 

_ Obviously _ it was, wouldn’t go over so well. Galo bites the retort back and raises his eyebrows, waiting. They both  _ know _ it was, but Vulcan’s  _ posturing _ and Galo taking the bait because he doesn’t like the idea of Vulcan being the one escorting the three of them back. He doesn’t know why, it’s just  — he doesn’t trust Vulcan not to do something and call it an  _ accident _ . 

“You’ve exceeded your authority. You’re under  _ arrest _ ,” Vulcan crows and the arm that snaps out to grab him by the throat squeezes just shy of dangerously tight. Galo’s feet kick despite himself, struggling to adjust his grip. They both know he won’t go to the Gov about this, about  _ anything _ Vulcan does to him. Vulcan’s cruel and needs an outlet for that cruelty; better Galo than someone else, even if it seems like Vulcan always has cruelty to spare. It’s a relationship that works as well as one like it can. Vulcan takes his frustration out on Galo and Galo gets to make sure he doesn’t go too far against anyone else, knowing Galo’s watching. 

Why would he bother the Gov with this kind of petty stuff, anyway? That’d just make him look ungrateful, when he’s really, really not. He owes Kray Foresight  _ everything _ and there’s no chance he’ll ever forget it. He didn’t rise all the way up here to meet the Governor's exacting expectations just to see someone flaunting his disregard for the treatment of those arrested. 

If he gets put in prison, that means he’s riding in the truck with Lio and the other two, though, which...might be the easiest option at this point, and the quickest way to end up under arrest is to piss Vulcan off. Getting arrested is the easy part, but figuring out how to get  _ unarrested _ without the Governor or anyone else finding out what happened is a little harder. He’ll figure it out later. 

“It’s the Burnish whose crimes can’t be overlooked,” Galo chokes out around the metal gripping him, fingers digging into the muscle of his arms to keep himself still. “ _ I’ve  _ only stopped them.” 

The thing is— the thing is, he’d told Lio that they were a team, earlier, because they were. When rescuing people and fighting fires, they were a team. Galo hadn’t anticipated that would extend any amount of time  _ afterward.  _

Ignis squares up against Vulcan and Galo’s stunned speechless because  _ Ignis doesn’t have to do that.  _ Galo’s making trouble for him, putting up the fuss about Vulcan and how he acts. Ignis would be well within his rights to tell Galo he’s dug himself into this hole and he better hope he climbs his way back out. 

“Is this a legitimate decision,” Ignis asks, and abruptly, Galo realizes what he means. He’s seen Ignis do it before, burying someone under every single piece of paperwork he possibly can to stop them from abusing their power, but Galo was  _ new _ . Galo can’t think of anyone at Foresight Tech or the Freeze Force who’d step in if they saw someone from Burning Rescue acting up. If the Gov would just  _ listen to him _ —

Vulcan drops him and Galo misses landing the fall entirely. He doesn’t have any air to lose when he hits the ground so he lays there, stunned for a moment, desperately trying to suck air into his lungs. When he rolls onto his side, he sees Lio glance from him, to Ignis, and then Vulcan. He doesn’t have enough air in his lungs, yet but he still  _ tries _ because Lio doesn’t know what he’s in for— “ _ Don’t _ —” 

“Internal power struggle? Public officials are so  _ petty… _ ” Lio’s voice rises above everything, nonchalant in a way Galo just knows is meant to wind Vulcan up. Galo  _ knows _ it, because he’s done the same thing countless times. The little hairflip is a nice touch, sure, but it’s still  _ stupid _ , because it’s going to draw more of Vulcan’s attention than he wants, he’s going to get hurt. 

It works, of course. Vulcan rounds on him and Galo reaches a hand out across the concrete despite knowing he can’t do anything. One hit, then the next connects and Lio’s sent flying, tossed into the truck hard enough Galo flinches at the thud of him against the ground. Vulcan rounds on him sprawled on the ground, still holding his throat in case Vulcan gets any ideas of going for it again; at least he’d be able to break the hold next time. 

“You made this choice,” Vulcan reminds him, and then he’s gone and so are Lio and his generals. Galo grits his teeth against the sudden rush of anger with nowhere to go. In front of him, Ignis is reading some sort of message on his phone because it beeps cheerfully. 

“Looks like he was just taking it out on you,” Ignis calls back, while Aina touches a hand to his back, both Remy and Varys casting huge shadows on either side, flanking them. For a moment, Galo doesn’t know what to say, Then, Ignis shakes his head. “Asshole.” 

He’s only been with them for a few months but he thinks they really  _ mean it, _ and the shock steals his breath harder than any knock to the ground ever could. 

* * *

The thing is, it’s not easy to track Lio down. Galo may have risen through the ranks under the Foresight Foundation, sure, but that doesn’t mean he’s given access to everything. When he tries to log into the computer to figure out where people are being held, or their status, there’s nothing for him to find. Galo fights with it for a solid five minutes and then sends his login info to Lucia, which is probably a little bit illegal but realistically only if he gets caught, right? 

Getting a medal followed by getting as much pizza as he can consume does a fair bit to placate him up until Vulcan shows up  _ again.  _ Somehow, Galo can save people from fires and collapsing buildings, but he can’t save them from the rest of the world, from the ugliness that lingers like mold against all the pristine white of the Foresight Foundation. No matter what he does, Vulcan still takes the pizza maker and the owner, and the unfairness of it burns worse than any fire he’s ever fought. 

The mountain helps and so does Aina, the chill doing a little to cool him off, but like clockwork if it’s not one thing it’s another. At first, with the muted reflection of the lake, he thinks it’s a shooting star. Shooting stars aren’t  _ purple _ , though.

There’s only one thing to do. Galo speeds off, trusting Aina to do what’s necessary to grab the rest of Burning Rescue and Galo looks at his phone for a brief moment, the little button he needs to press to summon Freeze Force glowing a faint red.

Rather than pressing it, he sticks it in his pocket and speeds off. It’s stupid, sure, but nothing’s felt right since all of this began and if there’s anyone who would have answers, it’s gotta be Lio. Creeping up to the cave, following the children indoors is easy. Everything is easy, up until he sees the huddled masses cloaked in the darkness, the flickering fire sending shadows licking along the walls. These aren’t terrorists. These are children, families, with a few people posted as guards. There’s some mistake. There has to be some mistake. 

Before he can radio in to Aina or Burning Rescue, the flames flicker and something hits him solidly in the back of the head, sends him tumbling to the ground. 

When he wakes, his shoulders ache, his wrists are raw. Groaning, he squints against the purple lighting of the cave and jolts back when he sees the Mad Burnish leader just watching him, an arm draped around his bent knee, chin resting on top of it. He’s not dead, so that’s something, but he is still super tied up and he’s not sure when Aina’s going to get everyone else here. 

Straining against the bindings, Galo kicks a foot out, trying to grind the rope against the ground but it’s no good. Leaning back, he sinks against the wall and raises his eyebrows at Lio who’s just watching, watching, watching. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Galo says finally, watching Lio’s head tilt just a touch. “The Mad Burnish boss, huh?” 

“I’ve already told you. Lio Fotia. Memorize it, Galo Thymos.” Lio’s got the whole casual nonchalance thing nailed down easily, but Galo can tell he’s paying attention. Tied up like this, Lio perched on a tall rock looking down at him, Galo’s certain every bit of it was intentional. Lio watches him the same way the Gov does, sizing them up from behind the white marble of his desk, weighing their worthiness. 

He hates it. He’d never tell the Gov this, but it’s so much simpler to just talk about stuff (and when talking doesn’t work, there are other ways to settle things.) All this dancing around saying but not actually saying things gets on his  _ nerves _ . “ _ What _ ?” 

“Be quiet. We’re eating a meal.” 

Galo bristles further, unable to stop himself. He’s seen the Gov’s calm crack a few times and it’s always a little terrifying in a way he doesn’t know how to reconcile against the man he knows and loves. Lio’s doing the same thing, talking down to him, talking down  _ at him _ and Galo’s so, so tired of it. Frustration makes him speak without thinking. “Do the Burnish eat food too?” 

Instantly, he wants to take it back; that wasn’t fair, that was cruel and Galo doesn’t like how the words taste in his mouth. Two fingers level at him and a flame flickers close to his face. Galo doesn’t flinch when Vulcan comes after him anymore, but there’s something inside him hardwired to react to the flames, scooting back, tilting away until he realizes it’s not burning him. Slowly, he opens one eye and then the other and Lio’s hand twitches again, the flame popping with a puff of heat and spark. It’s not dangerous as far as he can tell, and when he opens his eyes again he’s gotten Lio to come down from his high horse, standing over him instead. 

“You’re responsible for capturing countless Burnish. What did you think we were?” Lio’s voice is terribly quiet. From the side, the fire the Burnish are using cracks and pops, wood falling as it crumbles. “We Burnish are human beings. If we don’t eat, we die.” 

Lio’s right, and somehow manages not to sound angry while tearing Galo a new one. 

“Sorry.” It’s not enough, but he says it because he should because it was a shitty thing he’d asked. Rather than berating him for it, Lio looks...surprised. They’re interrupted by the old man calling Lio over and  _ that’s _ when he sees her. 

At first, he doesn’t recognize her, not without the bouncy curls and big earrings, but when the firelight slides over her just right, he  _ knows _ . 

( _ Don’t worry about the arm! It’s not like you meant to right? One time I was trying to put a lid on my coffee and I just crushed the whole thing, coffee everywhere, burned my hand. It happens.)  _

Before Galo can ask, Lio’s heading over to her, kneeling by her side. She’s covered in bandages, head to toe and Galo can tell it takes everything to even do as much as she does, lifting a hand up to Lio, trembling with the effort of it. They’re talking about their escape plan, helicopters and trucks, and Galo should be listening because this is  _ important,  _ the Gov  _ trusts him _ . 

But the woman is just...laying there, barely even breathing. Galo  _ brought her to him. _ Galo trusted him.

_ (The Gov’s working on a way to help, you know? He’s a great guy. If anyone can help you it’d be him. Maybe then you won’t have to burn anymore, right?)  _

Was this what the Gov was  _ doing _ ? This wasn’t helping people, this wasn’t saving them, he didn’t know  _ what _ this was but it’s wrong. 

_ I did this.  _

Maybe he wasn’t the one who experimented on her or caused the need for all those bandages, but he  _ encouraged her _ to go to Kray, to the Foresight Foundation. He told her that the Gov would help, he’s told so many others the same thing over and over, talking them down, trying to give them a choice. How many people did he lead into danger while trying to do the opposite?

“ _ Let me do it! _ ” The words tear free of him and he doesn’t try to take them back. Galo can do this, that’s what all that emergency medical training is for, right? He  _ has to do this _ . He’s the reason she’s in this situation in the first place.

“You?” This time, when Lio looks back, anger’s written across it, clear as day. “She’s like this because of people like  _ you _ .” 

“But—” Arguing gets him nowhere even if Galo really, really wants to insist that he’s the best shot; he doesn’t know what Lio plans to do, but leaning down and pressing his mouth against hers isn’t it. There’s nothing intimate about it, he realizes as he watches. Lio breathes his fire into her lungs and the flare of power throbbing within her flares once, twice, flickering. 

This is ritualistic if anything and Galo feels like he’s intruding, watching their faces light up as she twitches, breathes. Around them, the half-circle of people starts murmuring, their faces lit up from the pulsing light on the ground.

On the ground, Lio withdraws. Everyone else seems relieved, but Lio is watching her with this awful heaviness and resignation and Galo  _ realizes _ . Whatever he was trying didn’t work. Couldn’t work, because whatever the Gov’s people did might have  _ really done it _ , might have removed the Promare _. _ Lio’s careful as he picks her hand up and folds it over her stomach, fingers lingering. 

“She turned into ashes.” He shouldn’t say anything, but the shock of it startles him; Burnish were humans, but that wasn’t human, that was… Galo can’t bring himself to say anything else, glancing from the slowly fading pile of ember and ash up to Lio, backlit and surrounded by all of the people he’s trying to protect. 

* * *

The tinny voice of the armor rings through his ears, “Pressurization complete.” 

The Freeze Force armor moves at the slightest hint of intent, smooth and streamlined and  _ boring _ . He’s tried explaining that with the number of civilians they encounter they could at least make them less threatening and is, unsurprisingly, ignored. 

Doesn’t mean the armor isn’t useful. Galo’s far ahead of the others and it means he gets to set the tone for how this goes; Vulcan can’t interfere without playing all his cards at once. Galo leaps, hitting the cement with a deafening thud. A woman doing laundry looks up, startled, staring at him and Galo holds both hands up. “Hey, it’s okay. I need to find Lio. Lio Fotia. Is he here? Or his, the guys with the,” Galo’s hands wave at his shoulders, “huge armor, the generals.” 

She’s just  _ staring at him _ , mouth open, but the noise attracts other attention and Galo looks around, startled. He doesn’t know...what he expected, but it’s not this. There’s a table where someone is selling what looks like a variety of dried fruits and jerkies. Another table with cloths thrown onto it, a variety of colors and shades and cuts. They’re not just from Promepolis, they look like they're from other cities entirely. 

This is a village, not the hideout of a terrorist group. There’s been a mistake. 

“I really, really need to talk to Lio. Hey! Biker guy! Where’s your boss? It’s  _ important _ !” Impatient, Galo takes a step forward and behind one of the tables, two of the children bolt, and another man is edging away, bit by bit. One of the older guys with big glasses looks familiar, but Galo can’t place him; it doesn’t matter anyway because Lio slides out from the shadows and nearly scares the hell out of him. 

“What are you  _ doing here _ ?” Lio asks incredulously, then, giving him a once over, he steps back and Galo realizes he looks  _ terrified.  _ “ _ Meis! Gueira _ , evacuate everyone  _ right now _ .” 

Just like Kray, when he speaks, people act. Galo doesn’t have time to stop him from giving the order, nor the time to stop everyone from breaking. In front of him, the heat suddenly rises from Lio so sharply that Galo can feel it through the armor. 

“What have you _ done _ ?” Like he’s not covered head to toe in armor, Lio squares up to him, fire licking at the ends of his hair. “You  _ idiot _ . Did you think I’d negotiate with you?” 

“Wow,  _ hey _ , can you let me explain why I’m here before you —no, no,  _ not _ important. You gotta listen to me. The Freeze Force is coming for Mad Burnish, but there’s so many other people—” Galo starts, only for Lio to plant both hands against his chest, blasting him back furiously. Then, Galo’s words register, as Galo staggers to his feet. Rather than relieved, Lio’s face is unreadable. 

“You didn’t come here to negotiate. You came here to warn us.” Lio says flatly. “That bleeding heart of yours is going to be the death of you, Galo Thymos.” 

“ _ Obviously!  _ No one would send me to negotiate anything,” Galo flips his visor down and checks how long they’ve got, grimacing. “Can you contact your people and warn them?” 

“Yes,” Lio already has a phone out, furiously thumbing something onto it. He glances up for just a moment, eyeing Galo. “The armor doesn’t suit you.” 

“ _ Tell _ me about it,” Galo says, with feeling, just as a wall explodes into a shower of gravel and debris. He twists, taking two steps forward and catches the Freeze Force car just as it bursts through, before it connects with Lio, and tosses a few dozen feet over the ledge with a breathless laugh. “But it does make it easy to do this.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's technically more! it's like 6 months later and what was originally going to be called burn notice cuz it's ridiculous spy shit because WHY NOT.


	3. T, Superhero AU (Galo/Lio)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time they meet, Helios very nearly kills Galo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kept making MCU jokes and then this happened. The Promare being Venom/Venom armor and being horny on main for Galo when Lio won't is all I wanted, with a sprinkle of that last scene. This is also sovereignty's fault.

The first time they meet, Helios very nearly kills Galo.

The second time they meet, Galo keeps a building from falling on their heads.

“Hooooboy, that was close,” Galo Thymos says, panting, the mech squealing under the weight of the building it was supporting. Helios could have done it, if he’d  _ known _ , but he’d been distracted. Pointing out that he wouldn’t have died isn’t how to handle this, either; Galo had looked scandalized at the idea that he let Helios take a hit just because it wouldn’t kill him. He is, unfortunately, infuriatingly,  _ good _ .

Galo wrenches the mech’s arms a little higher and it locks into place, steadying the ceiling while Helios keeps the rest of the rubble at bay with his flames, letting the last few people escape. “We keep meeting like this, huh?” 

Somehow, it was easier back when Galo thought what everyone else did - that Helios was, at best, a villain who did things that maybe benefited people other than himself when he felt like it. Now, Galo knows better. It’s unbearable.

Galo’s smart enough not blab about how Helios is a terrible villain he  _ hopes _ , but it means moments like this, Galo’s not trying to bring him in, either. They’re not fighting, they’re working  _ together _ . It means that Galo sticks around the last few moments after everyone has successfully escaped, one hand holding that absurd Matoi, the other outstretched to Helios. 

A handshake. 

Helios stares at it a moment, disbelieving. There’s no one around to see, and around him his armor shifts, reaches for it. The armor likes Galo more than Helios is strictly willing to consider and he drags it back before the dark tendrils get too far, stepping back. 

“You’re going to get yourself killed one of these days,” Helios says, instead, armor rippling over him in displeasure. He ignores it. “I had it handled.”

“Sure you did!” Galo turns the offered handshake into a hand rubbing the nape of his neck, laughing sheepishly. “But when you’re rescuing people it’s always better to have a hand to help out, right?” 

Blessedly, the rest of Burning Rescue shows up, the cover he needs to duck through the hole in the wall and vanish, listening to Galo’s surprised shout from behind him. 

* * *

The third, fourth, and fifth times are much the same. Galo is dispatched to fight the fires that result from Mad Burnish’s attacks on Foresight properties and every single time, he dives headfirst into danger and survives, despite everything.

Every time, that absurdly bright smile and cheerful enthusiasm are directed at him, Galo reaches a hand out, and Helios leaves before he does something stupid like take it. 

_ Promepolis works with the heroes here, you just gotta actually go through the right channels _ , Galo tells him the most recent time, when offering Helios his phone number like it’s nothing. Like Helios hasn’t snubbed him at every turn. 

The armor reaches his hand out to take the scrap of paper Galo’s scrawled his number on and no amount of hissed accusations of betrayal make it stop. 

_ I know, you probably can’t call it. But at least think about it, right? We’re both really good at saving people. Bet we’d be even better at it together.  _ The grin on Galo’s face goes  _ flirty _ and Helios’ face heats under the armor. For the first time, Galo is the one to leave before Lio, cheerfully waving as he ducks out of the building and puts on a show for the masses. 

The number is on a receipt from a coffee shop they’ve apparently both frequented because  _ of course it i _ s. Lio can’t have one thing go right, apparently. Fine. He’ll save it into his phone when he gets home, if it survives the trip without being burnt up. Even if he does add it, he doesn’t have to text it. He’ll just forget it’s there. Give and take. Compromise.

When he gets home, he checks his pocket for the paper, half-hoping it’s going to be ash; his armor presents it from the same protective pocket his phone is kept in helpfully.

“What is with you?” Lio asks, incredulous, and the armor pushes his phone at him, insistent. 

He can’t save the name as Galo Thymos, just in case, but he can use the next best thing.

_ FIRESTATION - 3 _

Helios knows better. _Lio_ knows better. 

_**> SAVE CONTACT** _

_**> YES** _

He  _ knows _ better, but he does it anyway and two weeks later it comes back to bite him in the ass. 

* * *

Two weeks later, Galo  _ fucking  _ Thymos is holding Lio’s phone, mumbling his own number under his breath as he punches it in one digit at a time. It would be painful to watch, but Lio’s not watching, he’s dabbing at the coffee on his leather jacket, in disbelief that his luck is this piss poor. Bad enough to run into him after so long being careful, but worse it’s like this, where they’re going to have an extended conversation, and Galo’s going to try and make it right. 

Lio can’t just run away, he  _ won’t _ run away, even when he really should. _ I know it’s only a few bucks but you could’ve been burned! And your nice shirt! And your roll thingy! _

_ Croissant, _ Lio says and puts his phone into Galo’s outstretched hand because he’s an idiot. He hasn’t been burned by anything in years and the shirt doesn’t matter because he’ll remake it later but Galo doesn’t know that. Galo Thymos just a genuinely good person, who’s trying, and Lio is just  _ Lio  _ right now, not Helios, and he's trying to see just how screwed he is with the coffee stains.

_ “ _ I’d do it now but I gotta run, I was supposed to get everyone’s order for the meeting! I can add yours to mine but you’d probably be waiting forever. But if you send it to me I can get it for you next time!” Galo makes a funny little noise in the back of his throat. Lio hates how cute he finds it. 

“Haha, weird. Hey, you have the firestation’s number in here? You run into a lotta fires?” 

Coffee dribbles down the inside of his wrist to his elbow, chilly.  _ What _ ? 

“What?” Lio grimaces at his sleeve, and then, abruptly, realizes what Galo’s seeing. For the first time in years, Lio goes cold. His own number, in Lio’s phone. In  _ Helios’ _ phone, plugged in under the (now, ridiculously stupid choice) of FIRESTATION - 3. 

Galo’s number, which Lio Fotia would have no reason to have, since Galo gave it to  _ Helios.  _ All of that care, all of the planning these last few months for  _ nothing _ because he’s caught, by a mistake he  _ knew _ better than to make. His fury at himself burns hotter than any flames he could summon, but maybe the situation is still salvageable. 

They're in the middle of a busy part of town but if he needs to fight his way out, he’ll make it. Coffee shop back door, overloading the coffee machines as a distraction. Galo would be too occupied with saving people and he’d escape, but it’s too much. Too obvious. A lie, then. A half-truth, as close to the truth as -

“Here!” 

Galo pushes Lio’s phone back into his hand and grins. It’s the same one when he’s sweaty and ash-covered, in the belly of a burning building, but he doesn’t look...particularly shocked or surprised. Just a little sheepish while painfully earnest, smiling brighter than any flame Lio could manage right now. 

Under Lio’s skin, the flames quake, hungry. Galo could burn the same way they do, they’re certain of it and Lio refuses to give them the chance. 

“Got it in there under Galo Thymos.” Galo thumbs at his chest, beaming. “Text me and I’ll send you a really good contact photo. Oh! Fixed the firestation’s number, too, it’s only two off from mine. They warned me about that when I got my phone, y’know? Tons of misdials, but it works out since I work there! Lucky, right?” 

_ Lucky.  _

“Do you give your number to everyone?” The rollercoaster of adrenaline and panic mixed with relief make his tone sharper than he intends, but Galo laughs, cheerful, gathering stares on the street without giving it a second thought. 

“I dunno, is your name ‘everyone’?” Galo leans in, hooking his fingers into his stupid belts. Lio keeps his gaze anchored firmly on the too-blue of Galo’s eyes like that’s somehow better. A little beaten up and bloodied has been historically (embarrassingly) a good look for Galo, but this was so, so much better and worse at the same time. 

“ _ No,  _ it’s Lio Fotia.” The Freeze Force interrogation teams had nothing on the hurricane of aggressive enthusiasm that was Galo Thymos. No one else has ever gotten his name out of him that quickly or smoothly. Lio can’t even be angry. 

“Well, Lio Fotia, I  _ really _ gotta go and I  _ really  _ wish I didn’t have to. ” Galo’s cheeks dimple when he smiles like that. The flames curl their way around his heart and squeeze. “You should text me, though. Lemme pay you back for the coffee and  _ croissant.” _

He’s saying it the same way that Lio had ordered it, except his accent is  _ atrocious _ and Lio’s charmed, he’s so fucking charmed it’s the worst, how is this even remotely fair. “Maybe I will,” Lio says instead of the much, much smarter  _ it’s just a coffee and a shirt, it’s no big deal, I’m deleting your number.  _

Lio tries three times to delete it; his flames pull his fingers back every single time.

* * *

Worse than putting Galo’s number into his phone, Helios finds himself texting it. A moment of weakness, maybe, but the armor flickers around him and his phone materializes. 

The odds of surviving this insane plan are as high as he could reasonably make them in this amount of time, but it may not be enough. If it is, then he’s really done something stupid, but that’s a problem for later him to figure out.

This is cruel, maybe, to text that number knowing it might mean Galo just doesn’t ever get closure if something goes wrong. Or maybe it’s selfish, rather than cruel, but Gueira had cornered him after their last two missions where Galo had been, like clockwork. Like the world is determined to toss them together and over again despite all of Lio’s best efforts. All the best plans in the world don’t stand up to the sheer ridiculousness of Galo fucking Thymos.

This plan will, though, because there’s no other option but success.

They’ll be arrested tomorrow. Imprisoned on Saturday. Out by Monday. They’ll need medical gear for everyone they rescue; they don’t know what state the Burnish they free will be in. It isn’t as if having a contact at Burning Rescue is a bad idea, especially when they need to use someone to get the harder to find medical equipment. 

_ It would help to have contacts within the major response forces within the city.  _ He’d said that in one of their last meetings. Was it irresponsible not to take advantage of this potential connection just by that alone? At the time he had meant more...at the jobs or false IDs they were creating. 

Then again, what better cover; the city’s most recognizable public servant could do no wrong and it would be a decent cover. If it goes wrong, it wouldn’t hurt. Galo is the type who would bounce back from this, anyway. Lio’s seen the looks he gets from people in the city; there’s probably people beating his door down. 

Ugh, that doesn’t necessarily make him feel any better, but the armor slides back from his thumb and the flames writhe impatiently around his hand. 

W _hat are you doing this Monday? Late, probably. This is Lio Fotia._

_ You owe me a coffee and a croissant. _

Sent. 

Lio throws his phone across the room to not think about it for a while and hisses when it vibrates an instant later. Once, twice, and then keeps going. He doesn’t scramble to get his phone, that’s too undignified, but it’s close.

_ I DO _

_ HEY _

_ Yes i do i also probably owe you a new shirt too  _

_ i dont think that coffee comes out of white like that  _

_ i am still SUPER sorry about that _

_ Monday huh!! i’m on call til 8ish  _

_ gimme time to shower and stuff and say 9?  _

Attached is a contact photo; Galo hanging half out of his mech, arm outstretched, posing ridiculously. Lio takes a moment to look at it, and then deletes it. He can’t risk it, or Galo. 

_ 9 is fine. You don’t owe me a shirt either. I have plenty.  _

_ I’ll take the croissant and coffee, though.  _

_ Here? [Attached location.] _

_ It’s a date 💪 _

Far enough away from the apartment Lio is renting it’s not exactly a short trip, but still within downtown. He’s not even certain Galo checks the location before he agrees, and then it’s set. It’s a date. Lio’s not sure it’s better or worse if he looks forward to it, but it won’t matter if he doesn’t make it out. 

* * *

Like everything with Galo so far, the situation escalates quicker than Lio can plan for. 

Galo is the one to arrest Helios. They break out of prison, free the rest of the Burnish, and escape. Either Galo has the shittiest luck of anyone Lio’s met or  _ Lio _ has bad luck, but he’s also the one who shows up in the cave, loud, foolish. Ultimately well-meaning. 

“You’re going to get yourself killed and then where will your city be,” Lio,  _ Helios _ asks, the tip of his sword kissing just under Galo’s jaw, tilting his chin up. 

“Can’t die yet,” Galo retorts, not even pretending at  _ threatened _ . “I have plans in a few hours. Hot date!” 

It’s so absurd, it’s enough to get Helios to pause. What could possibly be- 

Oh.  _ Oh _ . 

Blessedly, the mask hides his identity and his expression. “If you want to live to see those plans through, stop putting your nose into situations that don’t involve you. Stick to fighting fires.” 

At this point he ought to know Galo, to know that’s the wrong thing to say. Galo leans in like a challenge has been issued and Lio prays for any scrap of patience he can grasp onto. “I  _ am _ sticking to fighting fires! That’s the one thing I know better than anything else!” 

“Would you like another award?” Helios asks, very dryly. 

“You’re the one causing half the fires  _ I’m _ called to put out.” Galo leans into the press of the sword, and yeah, it’s the dull edge of it, sure, it won’t  _ hurt _ him, but that’s a lot of trust to put in someone he barely knows. The  _ idiot _ . “Tell you what, big boss. You stop setting all these fires and I’ll stop getting in your way.” 

* * *

Galo’s alive.

Bruised, knocked more senseless than usual, bleeding from a head wound. Nothing life-threatening, despite taking a blow meant for him. A blow that would have minorly inconvenienced Helios, and could have killed Galo. The building shakes around them, concrete floating down to settle in Galo’s hair, sticking where the blood trickles down his temple. Helios smears it away, gentle, and tries not to stare at the mangled mess of Galo's arm.

“You’re going to be fine,” Helios tells him, touching claws around the wound gently, frowning when Galo doesn’t flinch. He can get them both out of here like this but it’ll be better if Galo’s upright. Too many people, too much of a scene. Him carrying Galo out could get him hurt worse if someone is an idiot with an itchy finger. “Galo.” 

“You do the ‘not mad just disappointed’ tone the third best out of anyone I know,” Galo informs him muzzily. Conspiratorially, he tips his head over toward Helios as he slowly works his way from sitting up to trying to stand. “Maybe tied for second.” 

Ignis, probably, is first. That’s fair. 

“I’m going to be even more disappointed if we aren’t able to get out of here soon,” Helios mutters, and together, somehow, they manage to get upright. Galo’s wobbly on his feet, but coherent, and his eyes track the flame Helios summons, so that’s about all he can do at this point. “The rest of Burning Rescue is out there. Can you make it?” 

“Of  _ course _ I can,” Galo huffs, like he didn’t just take one of Vulcan’s fists to his face minutes ago, like his arm isn't raw and red and horribly broken. His face is going to bruise; Helios can already see the faint edges of purpling against Galo’s jaw. “Are  _ you _ okay?” 

Galo turns to him, looking up, and then puts his hands on the part of Helios’ mask that isn’t broken, not bothered by the teeth, the hard shell covering him as he checks Helios over, fingers flitting along the edges of it. “Don’t think I didn’t see you get hit, too.” 

“I’m in  _ armor _ ,” Helios says, incredulous. “Spend less time worrying about other people and more about yourself.” 

An impossibility, they both know it. Galo gives him a sheepish grin and, apparently satisfied Helios is relatively uninjured, pats his shoulder. This close, the blue of his eyes reflects Helios’ flames, turning them electric. 

For a moment, Helios forgets himself. For a moment, he’s Lio Fotia, concerned about his well-meaning idiot of a boyfriend, and leans down to touch their foreheads together, even with the armor. It’d take nothing to steal a kiss, and he’s operating on only fumes, exhaustion weighing heavily on him. It’s not an excuse for how foolish he is, getting achingly close only for Galo to freeze in place, lips parted.

Then, Galo shoves him back, hard enough even Helios stumbles at the force behind it. Galo's good hand presses against his mouth, his eyes huge. “Wh — I can’t!” 

_Stupid._ _Lio's_ the stupid one. 

Helios takes another step back, holding both hands up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean — ” 

“Not that I’m not flattered, ‘cause,” Galo gestures to him and nearly topples over, grabbing at a crumbled piece of building to steady himself. He's graying; bloodloss, exhaustion. Helios winds an arm around his waist and Galo makes a shaky noise, sagging. “It’s just. I am. Super flattered I mean. I gave you my number, right, a few months ago?” 

First, to Helios. Then, later, to Lio. He can’t point that out, can’t risk Galo but that doesn’t mean it feels good lying to him. 

“It’s fine,” Helios tries, summoning his flames to try and rebuild the armor; they sputter out just as they appear. “I wasn’t  — don’t worry, I understand. I shouldn’t have — ” 

“I would! I bet you’re a great kisser! Even with the whole helmet thing in the way.” Galo interrupts, loud, boisterous as ever. “I just...can’t. I have a boyfriend, and I’m  _ pretty  _ sure I’m gonna ask him to marry me at this point, when things calm down.”

Helios — _Lio_ can’t move. He’s not supposed to know this yet. When did Galo even decide? They’ve barely known each other for a few months and now… 

“Hey,” Galo says, gentling his tone, caring so much about him without even really understanding why he’s jarred. Like he didn't almost die, like Helios isn't holding his beaten-up body upright. “Don’t worry! I’m sure there are plenty of guys out there who’d be lucky to have you!”

That isn’t the problem in the slightest. 

Helios looks at the ceiling and wills himself to make it through this. “It’s not, that’s not  — it’s fine, Galo. I’m sure your boyfriend is—” Lucky, appreciative, undeserving. Lying. “I’m sure he knows how much you care.” 

Galo eyes him a moment like he’s going to object further but Aina’s voice sounds on the speakers a moment later, loud, jarring. “Galo!” 

“Get your arm looked at or your boyfriend is going to be pissed,” Helios says, and vanishes.


	4. 4. (Galo/Lio, spies/heist AU, T) fits with ch2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Galo can hear the click of Lio's heels on the ground as he comes closer.
> 
> “You look—” Galo attempts, tongue thick in his mouth. “Taller.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally from some BS where Lio had to go to some party and grab information from a meeting room, with prior Kray/Galo.

It’s not like he hates events, because he doesn’t, it’s just… he wishes they could be something else. 

Sure, sometimes, you gotta rub elbows, make conversation with someone you don’t like to get your job done. This isn’t rubbing elbows, this is an entire party full of politics and Galo’s never wanted to learn how to play. Kray used to call him his show pony when he brought him out to events like this; it's only now that he gets how much of an insult it was.

Gueira and Meis are there lurking by the snack table, Lucia’s in a corner with her weird scientist buddies, Varys is talking to another guy whose arms are even bigger, Remi and Aina are double-fisting drinks, gossiping. 

Spotting Lio is a relief, even if it makes the anxiety claw at his stomach a little bit. Normally, Biar would corner him before he makes it to the floor and poke and prod at him until he’s deemed acceptable to be seen in public, but Meis and Gueira don’t do more than watch him head down the stairs, so Galo figures he must have done pretty good. He’s done this before, but never with Lio, never at a benefit like this. 

It’s one thing to know that Lio’s going to be dressed up, and another thing entirely to _see him_ like that. It’s overwhelming, like all the air’s gotten sucked out of the room at the sight of him and when he spots Galo and comes closer, Galo can hear the click of his heels on the ground.

“You look—” Galo attempts, tongue thick in his mouth. “Taller.” 

Lio looks up at him through the fringe of his bangs and smirks. His hair’s tied back, artfully disheveled in a way that probably took forever. Galo’s own had to be fought into a ponytail, keeping it out of his face, and yeah, sure, it works but it’s also uncomfortable as all hell. 

“Are you nervous?” Lio asks with faint amusement, eyes wandering over Galo slowly. This part, he’s familiar with. He straightens a little, squaring for the attention and inspection that comes, because Kray always wanted him to look his best, to represent Kray at his best. This time, there’s disbelief in Lio’s tone. “You  _ are. _ ” 

“I’m not nervous, I’m just, this is important! I know it’s important so I’m taking it seriously.” Galo stares straight ahead despite the way Lio looks at him but finally has to drop his gaze because Lio’s just standing there, clearly waiting for him. 

“You spend all day around panicked people and diving headfirst into dangerous situations where a building could collapse and kill you. But you’re...nervous at a charity dinner?” 

It’s weird. The question should make him feel guilty but instead of accusing, Lio sounds surprised.

The Gov — no, Kray,  _ Kray _ would ask very similar things.  _ Why do you look so nervous? You spend your time in such dangerous situations, this should be easy. All you have to do is stand there and speak when I tell you. You do understand, don’t you?  _

“Hm,” Lio says under his breath, and then makes some indecipherable hand signal that Meis and Gueira know what to do with because they part the crowd and come up. “I’m taking Galo away for a minute. Make our excuses if you need to.” 

“Got it, boss,” Meis says.

None of this makes any sense. Lio takes him by the arm and Galo’s torn between watching the crowd part for him like butter. A few strands of hair fall loose and curl damp against the nape of Lio’s neck; Galo wants to brush them out of the way. Lio gets warm, he sweats now; Galo’s seen him after a blaze, sweat soaking through his shirt. He gets cold now, he feels the heat, he’s just as human as the rest of them, as far as Galo can tell. Even in a situation like this, he looks unspeakably put together, though, while Galo feels like he's two seconds from ripping his suit, or messing up his hair.

He _also_ doesn’t know where the hell they’re going; none of this seems like where they came in, but they’re all big doors with gaudy molding on them and look pretty much the same so that’s not saying much. Lio tries the first door handle and it’s locked. The second, the same. The third, the same. The fourth, Galo’s wondering if he ought to say something, but the door opens. 

“Lio...not that field trip isn't fun, but, oh hey, it’s unlocked!" Galo pushes the door open, and is abruptly faced with two sets of wide eyes, and two half-naked people occupied on the table. " _ Oh we are so SO sorry—”  _

He puts his hand over Lio’s to slam it shut while the couple they’d accidentally interrupted clatters around inside. 

Lio seems remarkably unaffected at walking in on someone and goes back to trying doors while Galo alternates between being ready to pull another door shut if he needs to protect someone’s dignity and wondering what the heck they’re doing and when Lio’s going to say something. 

Another door opens and  _ this time  _ they’re blessedly not interrupting anyone. Galo follows Lio in and glances around the room; it’s not a bedroom, but it is a study or something, even if it’s a little dusty. Galo throws himself down onto the leather sofa, ignoring the way it creaks ominously underneath him. Lio’s just...looking at him, that same cooly appraising look and Galo squirms a little bit underneath it. He shouldn't have sat down like that; maybe Lio's thinking about all the wrinkles he's going to get in his fancy suit.

“You know the last time I was in a room like this at a party,” Galo starts, about to talk about the time he, Lucia and Aina hid for an entire benefit in one of the side rooms, catching the servers as they’d leave the kitchen for all the good food before it hit the floor. Probably not a good idea right now, he’s not sure if they’re supposed to be sneaking or just hiding in someone’s study. “...Are you gonna explain why we're here?” 

“You don’t have any reason to be nervous, you know.” Lio walks closer until they’re standing just a few inches apart. In the sharp, red-bottomed heels, he’s a few inches taller than Galo sitting. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a full suit before.” 

That’s a softball if Galo ever heard one.

“Only break it out for the important stuff.” Then, realizing why Lio might have pulled him aside, he pats at his chest, the buttons, the folds of his jacket, nervous. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t have anything out of place and it’s all matching, so he shouldn’t look like a mess. Right? Lio would tell him if he didn’t look presentable. “Does it look alright?” 

“Oh, Galo.” There’s a weird expression on Lio’s face and Galo doesn’t know how to interpret it. He’s not upset or disappointed, but it makes Galo’s stomach twist all the same. “I don’t mean that. I appreciate how much effort you went through tonight.” 

Well, that’s promising. Lio still looks a little gutted, standing there like he’s trying to be casual and mostly failing because the fire keeps glinting off Lio’s pretty rings, highlighting the fist he’s making. Galo’s not sure if he’s supposed to point that out or just go with it, so he beams and smooths down the front of his jacket, willing to bear the discomfort if it means Lio thinks he looks presentable. “So... why are we in here?” 

“Initially, only one reason. Now there are a few more.” Lio pauses, weighing his words, which means Galo gets a chance to study him properly. Lio’s switched the shiny black earring out for a dark red one, matched with another stone on his index finger. He looks effortlessly incredible and Galo desperately wants to touch him which is exactly why he  _ can’t _ . “You look very handsome.” 

It’s just a simple thing but Galo beams at the praise, tilting his face up into the press of a warm hand against his cheek. So this isn’t a getting chastised meeting, which is good, but he’s still not sure what kind of meeting it is. “Thanks. So do you. I like the hair.” 

Lio’s softening by the second, curving his fingers over Galo’s jaw, tracing them down to hook into the collar of his shirt. “You liked the events, the commendation, all the attention on stage earlier. What’s different?” 

What’s he supposed to say to that? Dinner parties with a bunch of fancy guests are totally different than presentations where someone pins a medal to his chest. Dinner parties require that he’s even more careful, that he doesn’t step out of line. 

“Just...different  _ ambiance _ ?” he pronounces the word with just a little flourish, just enough to get Lio to crack a smile. “I dunno! Parties are… parties are weird! Everyone wants you to do things a certain way but no one’s gonna tell you the right way to do it, half the time, and—”

"I don't expect anything from you while you're here, Galo." Lio soothes and crooks a finger at him the same way he had sitting on his bike. Galo goes toward him like a fish on a hook.  Lio fits two fingers under the swell of his throat and hooks under the tie, using it to tug him closer. “I can’t save you from the event but I can make it a little easier.” 

Galo doesn’t know exactly what to expect with a comment like that or the press of Lio’s fingers against his throat. The tie around it loosens and then falls slack as Lio drags the tail between two graceful hands and undoes it so it’s left looped over his shoulders. Admittedly, it’s a little bit easier to breathe and he feels less like he has a collar on like this but there’s a flicker of disappointment at it, which he  _ absolutely  _ does not have time to think about. 

“Who put together this outfit?” Lio asks once he’s done with Galo’s tie, fingers trailing maddening lines of warmth down his throat to unbutton a button on his collar. 

“He did,” Galo says, because thinking his name is one thing but saying it at a moment like this feels...weird, wrong. “Or, one of the people he hired. There were so many events and the only suit I had was super old. I was pretty sure I kept all the parts and pieces together, but if sorry if I—” 

“Galo, hush,” Lio interrupts him, but instead of Kray’s sharp tone like a whipcrack, Lio sounds faintly amused and his fingers settle under Galo’s chin to tip his chin up. Another button, the little release of tension making Galo jump. Galo’s words screech to a halt, focusing on the shine of gold at the dip of Lio’s throat, or the flicker of it across his fingers instead of his normal gloves. It’s pretty,  _ he’s _ pretty and he’s just...standing over Galo unbuttoning his shirt like it’s nothing when it’s  _ a lot _ . “You look very good but you look miserable. These dinners can be trying but there’s no reason for you to be  _ this _ uncomfortable.” 

“I’m supposed to be representing Burning Rescue, and you, and,” Galo starts, only for Lio to tug at the lapels of his jacket, smoothing them down. When Lio bends over to examine the braid of his hair, Galo realizes he doesn’t just  _ look _ good, he smells good too. It’s unfair. “You even  _ smell good?  _ What, couldn’t just stop with looking good?”

Lio pulls back and Galo watches as heat rises up his cheeks, vaguely pleased with himself. “Thank you. Look up at me, I want to see what they’ve done to your hair.” 

“It gets everywhere, so they usually just tie it back?” Galo hazards, while cool fingers press along where his hair’s drawn tight against his scalp, tied back into a severe bundle at the back of his head. Is this time better or worse than the time he was in here with Aina and Lucia? At least that time he knew what he was getting into; they’d get drunk and dip out of the party. Galo has no idea what Lio’s plan is. 

Clever hook into the hair tie and Lio apologizes quietly under his breath for pulling Galo’s hair as he undoes it. It hurts, but it’s over quick and then Galo’s hair springs out of place. It always sticks up, crimped in the worst way when they tie it back like this but it doesn’t usually matter since he’s just going home and can shower it out. 

“Lean forward, hand out,” Lio tells him and Galo obeys, putting his hand out, leaning just shy of putting his forehead against Lio’s chest. There’s a gentle metal clink in his hand and when he tips his head to see, Lio’s rings are settled there, removed so the bezels and edges don't catch on his hair. A hand pushes through the thick mess of his hair a moment later and the groan that’s startled out of Galo is  _ loud.  _ Above him, Lio laughs quietly and does it again, working bare fingers through the still slightly damp mess of Galo’s hair, fingers rubbing circles over his sore scalp. Galo keeps his hand open mostly because he’s afraid that he’s going to squish Lio’s pretty rings if he doesn’t. “You probably shouldn’t wear your hair down like this, but… I'll sort it out." 

Blunt nails scratch over his scalp. Galo bites back a groan. “Where’d you get the rings?” Galo asks, because he knows the Burnish don’t have much and Lio’s not the type to hoard and spend money on something stupid and frivolous. 

Above him, Lio laughs, gently adjusting the height of the ponytail he’s fitting to Galo’s hair. When the tie is tied off, the hairdo doesn’t hurt at all but it’s still contained. Huh. Outside the door, there's a commotion; loud voices, a slamming door. 

“Target,” Lio says like it’s a secret, and the absurdity of it makes Galo laugh, bright and loud and startled, and then one of Lio’s gorgeous boots finds itself onto the couch next to Galo’s thigh and he just kind of short circuits. Outside, another slam of another door, closer this time. Lio pulls a face, clearly frustrated. "...Apparently I do need to ask something of you. Just play along for a few moments." 

Play along with _what?_

Above him, Lio’s winding a hand around the back of Galo’s neck, fingers stroking through his undercut and then he’s looming over Galo like a promise rather than a threat. One of his knees settles onto the other side of Galo’s thigh, then the other, holding himself above Galo. 

At what point is it okay to ask what the hell Lio’s planning? Did they technically already pass that part? It kind of feels like they passed it.

“Hands on my thighs,” Lio says and Galo tries not to spontaneously fucking combust as he obeys, hands settling firmly on the middle of the backs of Lio’s thighs, squeezing tightly before he forces himself to release. Lio’s breath hitches and the door bursts open open, startling Galo out of the hyperawareness of Lio pressing every inch of himself against Galo. He’s doing something back there, reaching an arm over Galo’s shoulder to the desk, idly pawing through it, ruffling through paper. Hot and soft in Galo’s ear, “Tell them the room’s occupied.” 

Less an order and more a strangled request, Galo glances to the door and hastily says, “ _ Super _ occupied, please come back later!”

It, or maybe Lio draped over his lap, Galo’s unbuttoned shirt and messy hair works; the door closes and clicks shut again, leaving them alone which is fine, except Lio’s straddling his thighs and every inch of his torso is pressed up against Galo’s as he paws through what’s on the desk. Lio’s not Kray, which means Galo’s pretty sure he can ask what is going on without pissing him off too bad. “Uh. Lio?” 

A crumple of paper behind him and then Lio sinks back, folding a few sheets neatly, tucking them into his jacket. “They caught on faster than I thought they would. I'm sorry. I wasn't intending to use you like that." 

The difference - one of the many differences between Kray and Lio, is that Lio apologizes for using him and means it. The other difference, is that the stupidest part of Galo wants to reassure him that it's alright, that Lio can _absolutely_ feel free to use him any time he wants. 

**Author's Note:**

> other stuff coming up:  
> \- more superhero au  
> \- genderswap au  
> \- 6,000 words of hurt, no comfort, seriously bad kray wins au  
> \- want something? hit me in the comments or on plurk and i will ~ see what happens ~.


End file.
